A Dark Promise Part Two
by Leaf23
Summary: The epic conclusion of /s/5678513/1/A Dark Promise Part One. This was pretty emotional to write actually. Please leave comments and criticisms. Enjoy!


"I have another option."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow but kept her thoughts hidden as Daylen brushed aside some sticks for the campfire to sit down. Now that she was so close to him, the smoothness of her face and allure of her lips hard to ignore, he found his prepared speech turning into water, the details meshing together and his carefully-worded statements disappearing altogether. He was worried this would happen.

"I… think you should let me apologize for last night. I didn't mean to offend you. I know the Wilds are unforgiving and… I was just trying to make you feel more welcome here," Daylen said. That didn't come out how he wanted at all. Morrigan pursed her lips.

"I am intrigued," she said, "by both your persistence and your unabashed naiveté." She was not angry, which Daylen gladly welcomed. "And what is this option contrasting?"

"You being mad at me." The words tumbled out and he mentally berated himself for continuing to sound so stupid. "I mean, I think I have an option that you might be interested in."

"Do go on," Morrigan said.

It would be a gamble, Daylen thought. But he had a feeling he hadn't experienced before, something in his chest, a lightness that made his breathing shallow and his heartbeat loud throughout his body. When he talked to Morrigan, nothing around him seemed to matter, from the words being spoken about him by the others to the hours he could be sleeping, slipping away as the moon slowly traversed the sky.

"I want to spend time with you. I listen to you talk about your past and I can't help but feel sorry for you. I want to," he wanted so badly to say 'be with you' but he couldn't, "spend time with you," he finished lamely.

Morrigan stared at him, an odd mixture of expressions on her face. She settled for mild confusion. "But we already spend time with one another. We have been conversing every night for nearly a week."

"I meant," he said, "I want to kiss you."

Morrigan's expression only became more confused. "Why would you wish to place your lips on mine?"

"It is more than that," Daylen said, surprised. He had never thought of it that way. He moved closer to her. "And I want to show you."

Morrigan did not move away as Daylen sat himself directly next to her, their knees almost touching. She turned from him and looked directly forward, her eyes unfocused yet intense. "I believe you are attempting to change my mind on physical attachment, and I must ask why. Physical attachment is weakness. It can be preyed upon and used against an individual." She turned to him. "Why do you persistently attempt to woo me? I am here to help you accomplish your mission. Anything more than that is optional and, I believe, unnecessary."

"This is what I mean," he said. "You view life as just a power struggle, an unforgiving world of strengths and weaknesses. A life without somebody in your life makes you independent, but I think it deprives you of such a richness and depth to existence. I," Daylen said, slowing for a moment and realizing this could either go very well or very wrong, "want to show you that… I want to show you a different side to this world, one where experiences and memories are made together and your heart is not guarded behind reservation and caution."

It had almost become an obsession, he realized. The more Daylen learned about Morrigan, the more he saw this tremendous difference between them, something that made him pity her and wonder how one could go about such a life. He wanted to ease that quiet affection out of her. He wanted to stand next to her on whatever hill she placed herself, watching the world's sunsets _together_, showing her she did not have to be alone. For some reason he found this aspect of her unbelievably attractive.

She was still staring at him but the fire in her eyes had faded to embers. "Why?" she whispered. At that moment she looked like a woman instead of a witch, from the way her mouth was opened slightly and how her thin eyebrows revealed the way her heart was beating. "Why me?"

"You've had to give up a lot to live in the Wilds," Daylen said, his mouth dry. He took a breath. "I'd say that you've lost, but you were never given the chance to. It's tough. It's really tough, and you've hardened to it. But I think that there's such a depth to life you can experience," he breathed, "if you experience it with someone by your side."

Daylen looked away, at the dirt on his boots. "I am surprised. You… know very much about me," she said quietly. He looked back at Morrigan and was surprised to see sadness. "Have you lost before?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daylen thought of the few girls he had kept his eye on during his years at the Circle Tower, his disappointment at their looks at other mages. Then he thought of the other forms of love, of his family he had left at Lothering when he was only six years old, of the first nights in the Tower and how his breakfasts made him sick with grief at memories of his mother's cooking and his father's stories at the table. He remembered meeting Jowan and the few adventures they had teasing the templars and hiding in the passageways they knew from exploring the Tower. He remembered Duncan and feeling like he could someday compare him to a father but never knowing if his initial trust in the man would have grown to something akin to love. And then he thought of his companions and how any battle could serve as the last moments they breathed the air of this world and heard the sound of water or song of birds. Without a word, he leaned over and kissed her.

Her lips were stiff as he touched her, but as Daylen moved his hand to her back, he felt her relax and move her lips to match his. Her hand touched his cheek and pulled him closer and it felt like something exploded in his chest, flooding him with yearning and raw energy. As he kissed her, the memories of everyone he had lost rushed through him and he felt his eyes water but the presence of _her _in his arms, with her own hardships set aside for the moment, made him feel something he had wondered about and envied for years – he was experiencing companionship.

They kissed for a few seconds before she pulled away and looked at him. From this close, with their lips nearly still united, he felt there was nothing he could hide from her. She breathed slowly, her eyes moving between his. Then she kissed him again, her movements rigid and unpracticed but beneath them a softness he did not expect. As they kissed, he pulled her closer and felt her loosen in his arms. Suddenly she pulled away again and their lips parted.

"T'is _cold _in my tent," she said.

"We can't have that," he breathed.

As he leaned in to kiss her again, he heard Dog howl at the moon on the opposite side of camp, a howl of longing that gradually faded to the sound of Morrigan's lips against his.

* * *

They had not even arrived at Denerim before they could see the burning. The sky in the distance was orange, the clouds a dark brown. When they had entered the gates, rushing the screaming Darkspawn, Daylen saw that every building around him was a pyre of heat and death, its ashes and smoke billowing upward to add to a canopy of black. It was almost impossible to breathe – aside from the smoke and bits of burning wood and flesh in the air, the smell of the Darkspawn, overbearing with the thousands around them, made what little air that made it into his lungs rancid.

So far, they had cut a path into the town center. Daylen was with Morrigan, Alistair, and Dog; the others had left with some soldiers to secure the Alienage, which was being overrun with Darkspawn and potentially one of the generals. The other general was somewhere nearby. As soon as he was dead, the four were running as fast as they could for Fort Drakon to confront the force that was forming another Blight as they spoke – the Archdemon.

"Ogre up ahead," Alistair called. Their boots kicked up brown dust on the ground as they headed for the monstrous figure ahead of them. The beast seemed alone in the clearing, picking through the bodies littering the ground – both human and Darkspawn – and was paying no attention to the alleyway from which Daylen and the others were approaching. When Alistair and Dog were no more than fifteen feet from the ogre it finally turned to them, its face splattered with blood and a severed leg in its massive hand. Daylen and Morrigan raised their staves in unison and a haze of freezing air swirled around the ogre for a second before forming a layer of ice a few inches thick around the beast. Daylen hoped their combined magic would hinder the monster but within a second it had broken through its casing with a roar and charged Alistair, who quickly leapt to the side as its bulk slammed into the ground he was a moment earlier. Dog ripped at its legs, alternating between biting savagely and leaping back, growling. As a bolt of lightning shot from Daylen's staff, he shouted to Morrigan, "You do know after this is over I will look for you!"

She shook her head as she threw a projectile at the ogre. "I asked you not to complicate the matter."

"Morrigan!" Daylen shouted and he gave up trying to cast a ward around Dog, choosing to quickly heal him instead. The mabari's broken limb realigned itself. "Is it not clear what you mean to me? Is there truly something so important that you will walk away from the most of my heart I can give you?" He almost released a jet of flame without excluding Dog and Alistair. "Can I honestly give you anything more?"

"Daylen," Morrigan screamed, turning to him. "T'is not about us!"

A low growl that seemed to shake the ground stopped Daylen's next comment from exiting his lips. Louder than the ogre's screams as Alistair's blade opened its flesh to the black air, another rumble came from their right, from behind the corner of a building covered in soot. Daylen's heart sank as an ogre emerged, and then another, before one even more gigantic than the others followed, each footstep cracking the cobblestone beneath it. Its skin was blue and it stood at least fifteen feet tall, its wicked horns curling around its ears before extending several feet in either direction. It was an alpha.

Daylen wasted no time racing through the elements of a spell for the vilest poison he could magically concoct before unleashing it upon the alpha. The dull green energy sank into its skin but the behemoth barely reacted, instead fixing its yellow eyes on the four of them and the now-dead ogre on the ground. With a bellow, it began running towards them, each footstep like a miniature explosion that shook Daylen's ribs. The two ogres, almost diminutive by comparison, followed suit. Daylen stole a glance to his left and saw Alistair and Dog running to engage the alpha. "Wait!" Daylen shouted. Fighting that monster and two ogres simultaneously was suicide. He cast a paralyzing hex on the ground before the alpha but it stepped through the glowing light as if nothing was there. Daylen cursed and began formulating a fireball.

Morrigan raised her staff and a chill appeared in the air. The temperature dropped lower and lower and a wind began to blow, though it moved in every direction, like a pit of writhing snakes. The dark bits of burnt buildings floating around them in the air began flowing through the maelstrom of air, turning gray and then white as bits of frozen water transformed them into razors of ice and snow. Alistair and Dog retreated as the air in front of them transformed into a thrashing blizzard of white. Nothing could be seen in the winter storm, not even the shadows of the ogres and their alpha. Their howls sounded distorted through the wind and Dog and Alistair moved even further away, panting and waiting for the first sign of something to emerge from the gale.

A dark shadow materialized before the alpha appeared, its skin torn and blistered with granules of ice coating every cut. Its mouth had a jagged rip extending upwards and bubbling with black blood. The alpha roared and grabbed a desolate merchant stand, one half black with dust and the other shining with ice. Daylen finished the fireball and shot true this time, the ball of compressed energy burning through the air as it landed at the alpha's feet and exploded with angry flames enveloping the alpha and hissing at the cool behind it. Alistair closed the gap between the four and the behemoth and plunged his sword through the flames and into its leg. The alpha roared again and swung the mesh of wood and metal, clipping Alistair's arm and spinning him wildly. The crack of bones breaking made Daylen wince.

Dog leapt onto the alpha, tearing at anything he could reach, biting at flesh that had been both frozen and burnt in the last thirty seconds. The alpha raised the stand and slammed it against the ground, splintering the wood and bending the metal but Dog was already on the opposite side of the beast, scratching at wounds on its legs. With a startled cry, Dog was suddenly lifted into the air and thrown against the building on their right, crashing through a window. Daylen had almost forgotten about the other ogres.

Running backwards, he reached into a pack on his belt and pulled out lyrium. They were wasting time. The general was somewhere here but they were fighting his army. Daylen swallowed a mouthful of potion before tossing the vial and casting an arcane bolt. An inhuman shriek to his right startled him as a massive spider ran past and leapt onto the alpha. Morrigan's weight pushed the alpha backwards and into one of the ogres, who fell to the ground. The other began running towards Alistair, who was limply holding his sword with his off hand and had left his shield on the ground. Daylen tried healing him but the alpha was stumbling backwards towards him and trying to fight off Morrigan's pincers from its throat. Tossing his staff, Daylen unsheathed his sword and with all his energy stabbed his sword through the blackened, blistered skin into its lower back. The blade lodged itself a foot into the beast and Daylen dropped to the ground, leaving the blade in its spine. "Morrigan, get off!" he shouted as he ran to the side. The alpha's knees buckled and it fell backwards, Morrigan's pincers tearing at its throat. She jumped off as the alpha hit the ground, Daylen's sword bursting through its stomach with a shower of blood.

As Morrigan attacked the ogre that had fallen, Daylen grabbed his staff and engaged the other. In less than a minute, the weakened monsters uttered their last growls and the clearing was silent again, like the eye of a storm. While Daylen and Morrigan began healing the others, they heard the slow footsteps of another ogre from behind a building. Ducking into an alley, they ran, each second feeling like it was a second too late.

* * *

"I want to give you something."

Morrigan pulled Daylen from her fire to the opposite side of her tent. They passed through dark green bushes, stepping over mossy logs as they walked away from the view of the rest of camp. Daylen realized she was holding his hand.

"I have been thinking," Morrigan said in the dim light. It was much darker here, and cooler. "If we were to become separated, it would make sense for the others and me to have a way to find you. You are our leader, after all, and your well-being affects us all."

Daylen smiled. "So, where are you going with this?"

"Your patience is admirable," Morrigan said, raising an eyebrow. "I have a ring," she said, moving closer to him, "that is linked to another and allows both wearers to know where the other person is. That person merely has to think of his or her location, and then the other wearer will know exactly where to find the partner! T'is very convenient for one as important as yourself."

"And I suppose you have the other ring?" he asked.

"Why of course," she replied as though he had stated something blatantly obvious. "Two months with Zevran is far too little time to trust someone who tried to kill you, Wynne is old and forgetful, Alistair would probably leave it somewhere, Leliana –"

"Alright," Daylen said, hushing her. Morrigan looked adamant to continue her justification. "I understand. It is practical."

"Yes, practical," she muttered.

She turned to a small box that had suddenly appeared by her feet, its surface momentarily rippling like water before looking like a completely ordinary container he could have found in a tavern, and bent down to open it. Daylen couldn't help but look at her figure, beautiful beyond anything he could have asked for. Was she his, though? Sometimes it felt like it, but there was still a wall hiding thoughts and emotions he yearned to know. At least he was with her, and the others had taken the liberty of making remarks during their travels, both casual and cynical. Morrigan addressed them with her own touch of ice but Daylen secretly smiled at the comments.

She rose and held two small black rings in her palm. "I want you to wear this always," she said, looking at him. He could see the deep gold of her eyes, even in the dark. "I would need to hurt you greatly if you were in danger and I found you were not wearing this." She smiled a little. "You do not wish that to happen."

"Don't worry," he said, taking one of the rings from her and slipping it onto his finger. It was cold. Morrigan fingered hers for a moment before placing it onto her hand. Suddenly, his ring was no longer cold but warm, warm and comforting. He looked at Morrigan. Her eyes were closed but she was smiling, something he could actually feel in addition to his beating heart. He closed his eyes and felt another rhythm, one that was cool and consistent, beating into the abyss of darkness under his eyelids. Next to the rhythm was his heartbeat, nervous and rapid. He felt a hand on his arm but he did not open his eyes, instead taking a deep breath. He could smell Morrigan's hair, the fruit with which she washed it, the raw nature she emanated. As he breathed, his heart slowly relaxed until his beats matched the rhythm he felt. When they were in unison, he heard Morrigan release a breath she seemed to have been holding this entire time.

"Daylen, I think I…"

But whatever she thought, Daylen never found out. From the darkness he felt her lips combine with his, her body press against him. They kissed as they had never before, and in their makeshift isolation he felt happiness, though he did not know to whom it belonged.

* * *

The grenlock's helmet clanged loudly against the stone floor of Fort Drakon and then silence again filled the hall. Daylen shot his gaze left and right but none remained but the four of them. They raced down the hallway, their footsteps echoing loudly before they reached a large carpeted room and there was no sound to complement their heavy breaths. The battle around them seemed thousands of miles away and Daylen almost felt the urge to enter a room, lock the door, and place his head into his hands and – he didn't know. He was so immensely tired but the adrenalin kept his muscles working, he was so scared but his companions' faces kept his expression stern. He felt so sick, like he was running towards something he would look back on with a heavy heart for the rest of his life but the event had not happened yet. He could not even look at Morrigan anymore for fear of another argument in their final moments. The ring he wore was silent. And underneath it all, perhaps the real reason he felt ready to lose consciousness was the monster above them, something of legend that wanted to feel him die in its jaws.

They rounded a corner and saw the stairwell to the final floor. They stepped over bodies of all races and blood fizzed in the crimson carpet with each step. Alistair ran ahead, undeterred by the scratches and bends in his armor. Then ran Morrigan, Dog, and Daylen. Alistair entered the stairwell and dashed upwards, disappearing behind the curve of the wall. Morrigan stepped onto the stone but then stopped, turning to Daylen. Dog passed her and galloped after Alistair.

"Well," Morrigan said, her breath devoid of the strain of their sprint. "I suppose t'is the conclusion."

Daylen said nothing, turning to the wall on his right and breathing heavily.

"I must remind you once more not to follow after me. My feelings for you are strong, but what I must do is –"

"Morrigan," Daylen interrupted. He looked at her, leaning against the wall with his arm. "Do you remember that conversation we once had?"

"We have had many," she said dryly.

"Morrigan," he said again, shaking his head. "Please."

She closed her mouth and looked at him with her usual aura of detachment.

Daylen took a few breaths before swallowing and then looking up at her again. Alistair and Dog's footsteps were becoming quieter. "Do you remember what I told you I wanted right before we kissed for the first time? About experiencing life with somebody by your side?" Morrigan stared at him, her mouth tight. Daylen shook his head again. "I know this is the end. But I just wanted you to know," he felt something in his throat and his eyes burned, "that I've felt everything I told you that night over the last few months with you. I have never felt like this with anyone. Maybe I'm really as lonely as you are," he said and he felt a tear fall down his cheek but he didn't care. "I will follow you because you have given me something that nobody else has given me my entire life. And for that, I thank you." He nodded his head and felt the tears stream down his face. Right then, everything hurt – his body, his wounds he had half-heartedly healed, his head, his throat, his mind.

He heard Morrigan shift from the stairs and he looked up, his vision blurry. She was looking at him. He could feel her heartbeat like the night she had given him the ring, but this time it was not calm and steady, confident and strong. He cleared his eyes and to his surprise saw two silent tears crawl down Morrigan's cheeks.

"We should go," she said, and she turned and ran after the others.

* * *

"One of us is going to have to die."

Daylen looked between Alistair and Riordan. The senior Grey Warden stood still, his eyes unfocused. Alistair was staring at Riordan. Before he could say anything, the Warden said, "Ideally, I shall be the one to deliver the final blow. But if I fail to do so, the task will fall to you two." He looked at them in turn. "Nothing is as important as slaying the Archdemon."

Alistair shifted, his armor clinking slightly. "I don't want to be the one to do it, but if it comes down to it… I suppose I will."

Riordan nodded. "Just think about what is at stake. All of Ferelden is relying on us to finish this Blight before it begins. Everything that is important to you, to anyone, will be destroyed if we do not slay the Archdemon tomorrow. If we must die in the process… well, we will have saved the lives of everyone important to us."

Daylen rubbed the ring on his finger. "I will deliver the final blow."

* * *

"Daylen!"

Morrigan's next words were overcome by the Archdemon's tremendous roar. The beast was the perfect demonstration of evil and seemingly perfect in its ability to withstand anything. The Redcliffe soldiers ran at the spiked beast to barely scratch its scales with their swords before they were impaled by its tail or met their demise at its teeth. Nothing was working. The catapults on the towers had managed to batter the Archdemon until its steaming black blood dotted the ground, but its ferocity was only kindled before the machines jammed and they were forced to flee for cover. Cold seemed to work well, but nothing Daylen and Morrigan were doing even remotely deterred the beast from ripping apart anything that came near it, no matter how heavily armored. Alistair was lying unconscious by one of the towers but Daylen had no time to stop his bleeding. Alistair would have to survive without him for now, or none of them might survive.

Daylen and Morrigan were on opposite towers, alternating casting cold spells and healing each other and Dog, who had somehow survived up to now. Daylen healed Morrigan before shouting back, "What?"

Before she could respond, the Archdemon roared and a jet of flame seared the air between it and Morrigan. Daylen watched in horror as the tower she was on became engulfed in the flame from the Archdemon's mouth, which burned even when there was nothing for it to consume. As quickly as he could, Daylen hurried through the elements of a blizzard to counter the fire and raised his staff into the air, but he barely had enough mana to do more than form a cool breeze.

The Archdemon roared again and its blaze stopped. The tower was now filled with a deep black smoke. Daylen looked over and saw the Archdemon snapping at some soldiers who were cutting at its flank. He ran as fast as he could across the open ground and up the incline that led to her tower. Plunging into the darkness, he closed his eyes and thought of the ring.

He could barely tell where she was but it was as though he could see better with his eyes closed. She was lying on her side against one of the walls, moving slowly. He ran to her and grabbed her, opening his eyes and only searing them with the smog. He coughed and held a robe to his face, clamping his eyelids shut. Morrigan's form re-appeared in front of him. She was shaking.

"Morrigan," he shouted through the cloth. Concentrating, he focused what little mana he had left and healed her through his hands. She stirred a little, turning to him. In the distance, he heard the Archdemon snarl and the shouts of the soldiers. Daylen touched her face.

"Daylen," she whispered. "I…" She shook her head. "Heal me once more and let us finish this."

"I can't," he said, almost frantically. "I don't have any lyrium potion left."

"Take mine," she said, reaching into her robes. "I will not need it soon." She handed him a small vial and he drank it in one mouthful, dropping the glass next to them. After a few seconds, he felt the familiar tingle of energy and he focused his thoughts into healing her.

They stood up and Daylen opened his eyes, realizing the smog had faded. They were out of sight but would not be for long. Morrigan looked him in the eyes. "Let us make the most potent ice storm Ferelden has ever seen." Daylen nodded.

Together they went through the elements for the blizzard, their thoughts running rampant and crossing from one individual to another through their rings. Their mouths moved silently as white energy swirled around them. As they raised their staves into the air, Daylen opened his eyes and shouted, "Run!" to the soldiers below them.

Daylen felt like he was above the clouds of a tremendous storm. Below him, white wind blew wildly, enveloping everything in translucent snow and ice and ripping apart everything caught within it. The Archdemon screamed as pieces of ice sliced through the fabric of its wings. Some of the soldiers managed to run to safety but those closest to the Archdemon were frozen solid or collapsed to the ground, only to be covered in snow within seconds. They had sacrificed themselves anyway, Daylen thought, but he still felt sick.

With the remainder of his mana, Daylen focused his power onto a thunderstorm. He felt outside help but did not look at Morrigan until after the thunderbolt leapt from his staff into the sky and fell near the Archdemon a moment later, bathing the winter storm with rampant electricity. The Archdemon's hide reflected the bolts but its wounds, especially on its wings, burned and tore in the tempest. It roared and spat black flames before leaping into the air, its tattered wings straining against gravity and the voracious winds around it.

"Archers!" Daylen shouted, and he took the horn by his side and blew several notes. From below, he saw the Redcliffe soldiers take their bows and begin fitting them with arrows. Hopefully the Dalish would come soon. Morrigan released an arcane bolt at the beast, which was slowly rising to their height, before she turned to Daylen and said, "The time is nearly here." He swallowed and nodded, gripping his staff.

The arrows began flying from the ground below just as the Archdemon reached Morrigan and Daylen. Its long neck was swinging from side to side but it stopped when it saw the two of them barely twenty feet in front of it. It snorted, fumes trickling from its mouth as it gazed at them with lidless yellow eyes. For a moment, time stood still as Daylen and the Archdemon locked eyes – a gaze between predator and prey, but which was which? Then Daylen unsheathed his sword and shouted, not words but a manifestation of every pain he had ever experienced and his hatred of this war coming to a crescendo as he gazed upon the beast. As the Archdemon lunged towards him, spewing black flames tinged with purple, he took two steps and leapt off the tower, his sword high above his head.

The descent lasted less than a second, but he saw everything as though he was reliving the duration of his entire life. The Archdemon's severity, its utter lack of emotion. The flames forming from deep in its throat, behind jaws with wicked teeth and dark gums. The wings extending a hundred feet in either direction, the wind whistling through tears in the fabric that hung and flapped with each stroke. Below them, the storm that raged with elemental passion. The Redcliffe soldiers, shouting to one another. Their arrows, whizzing by them or staying true and lodging themselves between scales. And even the ring, which in that moment he felt another presence within him that whispered _I love you_.

And then they collided, man and beast. Daylen thrust down his sword and ripped into the Archdemon's snout, his weight pushing the blade through the roof of its mouth. The sword jerked and he held on for dear life, whipping around and out of the jaws and flames of the enormous beast. It shrieked, turning its head from side to side but the blade only cut deeper into the monster's mouth. Flaming black blood spewed from the wound and ran up the length of the blade before Daylen realized they were falling. The tower behind him seemed to shoot into the sky and he felt the cold and static from below rushing to claim him. With a shout, he tried twisting the blade to rip as much as he could but the Archdemon roared, whipping its head suddenly and Daylen was thrown to the side, his sword wrenched from him. The ground rushed by him and he closed his eyes before he met the stone.

Darkness stayed only temporarily, much as he embraced it. He suddenly felt pain, intense pain that gradually faded as he felt his bones sliding against one another and realigning, or the itching of skin reforming. He opened his eyes and saw Morrigan over him, her hands shining with blue energy. As he felt his muscles tighten with new hope, she opened her eyes and looked deep into his. Nothing more needed to be said. Then her gaze flitted upward and the sounds around him finally registered.

The Archdemon was growling but it was a low sound that faded and reappeared inconsistently. Daylen stood as the sound of bowstrings humming after releasing their arrows surrounded him. He looked past the archers, human and elf, at their target, the Archdemon lying in the center of the clearing now devoid of blizzard or tempest, its movements slow and uncoordinated. A segment of Daylen's sword protruded from its snout. Daylen tightened his jaw and a raw passion filled his body until he could barely stand. "My lord!" a soldier shouted, and he threw Daylen his sword. Daylen grabbed the blade and felt the energy rise until he started running, faster and faster and shouting as he approached the crippled beast. It turned to him, its eyes showing the Archdemon's hate for what it saw. It coiled and then shot forward, but Daylen dove underneath the blow and cut through the monster's throat as he slid. The Archdemon wailed and sluggishly turned its head towards him but Daylen stood and stared at the wounded beast. Conquered.

In one fell swoop, Daylen brought the sword down upon the Archdemon's head, piercing it the entire length of the blade. He tried to let go but at that moment a light formed where he had stabbed the Archdemon, growing stronger and stronger until it was blinding and he turned his head. The beast trembled beneath him as the air around them shimmered and rolled with pent-up energy. Suddenly, a tremendous force rocked Daylen from the Archdemon and he felt like the world exploded with light and sound. He closed his eyes and covered his ears, shouting in addition to the maelstrom around him.

After what felt like an hour, the world gradually returned to order. The sound receded but the light still burned underneath his eyelids. He felt so alone in that moment and he fingered the ring impulsively. It remained silent. As the light slowly faded, he opened his eyes and stood, his eyes not even lingering on the carcass in front of him. As soldiers and elves ran at him, throwing him into embrace and shouting his name, he knew he was alone. Morrigan was gone.


End file.
